Even in here, it didn’t look like a strip club. It looked like a really fancy bar, or one of those big tents where they did fashion shows on America’s Next Top Model.
Part of me had actually been hoping it was going to be completely skeezy. If Loose Cannons had been gross and dirty and disgusting, I would have had an excuse to run out of there as fast as my legs would carry me. It was almost worse that it wasn’t as bad as I’d imagined.
“We don’t open until later,” the girl behind the bar yelled across the room. “We don’t do a day service.” From her clipped tone and snotty pout, I could only assume she’d been the one I’d talked to on the phone.
“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “I was told that I could come in anytime to try out. That it didn’t have to be during normal hours.” I didn’t want to try out during normal hours. Who knows what they’d make me do during normal hours? Maybe put me on stage in front of a bunch of people.
This got the bartender’s attention. She looked up sharply from the glass she was drying, and her eyes slid up and down my body. I could practically feel her judgment permeating the room, and I wondered for a moment if she had some kind of pull over who got a job here.
Maybe Loose Cannons was one of those strip clubs that was run by a woman. I pushed my shoulders back and marched over to the bar.
“Hi,” I said, giving her a smile. “My name’s Olivia.”
The bartender had bright blue eyes, and she looked me up and down again. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mumbled under her breath. She was wearing a tight black leather vest with nothing under it. It ended just under her breasts and her stomach was tight and toned. She had a tattoo of angel wings around her belly button. She reached over and picked up a cordless phone that was sitting on the bar.
“Colt,” she said. “Someone’s here. An audition.” She paused and scrunched up her nose. “Definitely not.” She hung up the phone. “Colt will be out in a minute.”
Colt must have been the owner. I pictured him as an older man who wore shiny button-up shirts and lots of gold chains. Hopefully he would be nice.
I heard him before I saw him.
He came up behind me, his voice as smooth as silk. “You here to see me?” My pulse sped up and my heart started to race. I turned around and came face to face with the most gorgeous man I had ever seen in my life.
He was younger than I’d imagined – probably only twenty-six or twenty-seven. Everything about him was dark – dark eyes, dark hair, beautiful tan skin. His eyes looked right into mine and one side of his mouth slid up into a grin. His jaw was chiseled, with just the tiniest bit of a stubble. There was a small scar on the top of his lip, but it didn’t take away from his looks – if anything, it added to them. The rest of him was so gorgeous, that the scar kept him from being too model-pretty. He was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt -- it was the kind of t-shirt that was supposed to look casual, but you could tell it was expensive from how beautifully it was cut, how it hugged his ripped biceps and broad chest in all the right places.
He smelled like a mix of beer and cigarette smoke and cologne and danger. I felt dizzy just being around him.
“Um I’m not…” I faltered. “I mean, yes, I am here to see you. I mean, I’m here to try out. You know, to audition.” I could tell I was blowing it, acting like a simpering idiot.
Get it together, Olivia, I told myself. Who cared if this guy was hot? He was probably a grade-A douchebag. Especially if he was running a strip club.
“Okay,” he said. He stood there for a beat longer than necessary. He was still looking right into my eyes and I forced myself to keep his gaze. If he thought I was going to look away, he was wrong. “Come with me.”
He turned around and started heading back behind the stage, moving toward a set of double doors. I hesitated for a moment. It was one thing to be out here, in the middle of an empty strip club. But now I was about to follow some guy I’d never met before into the back room. Who knew what was waiting for me back there?
Maybe I wasn’t ready for this. Maybe there was something else I could do, some other job I could find. But I knew there wasn’t. I was at rock bottom. And if I didn’t do something about it soon, I was going to end up even more lost and desperate than I already was.
So after a moment, I followed Colt.
He led me down a long hallway and into a small back room. I wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be an office or not. There was a huge mahogany desk in one corner, but there was also a stripper pole in the middle of the room. The floor was covered with a crushed purple and black carpet, except for an octagon in the middle of the room that was hardwood. That’s where the pole was. Around the pole were a bunch of big leather chairs, the kind of chairs you’d see executives sitting in while they watched a screening of a movie.
I licked my lips and wiped my palms against my skirt.